


Empty Bottle

by witchy_alien



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 10:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2688899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchy_alien/pseuds/witchy_alien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Haru had screwed up big time in his plan. And now everyone had known of his failed attempt."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empty Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> Empty Bottles by Ingrid Michaelson.

Feeling the sheets around him, his skin itched. Haru scratched at the back of his hands and arms. He stared up at the ceiling as he did so. Everything was surprisingly serene. Maybe this was meant to be. Haru passed his time counting the seconds it took to drag his dull nails against his raw flesh. It didn't help. 

Haru felt thirsty. He parted his chapped lips, and looked around. Soon he wouldn't need water. Maybe this was a mistake. 

Raising his hand, he stared at the veins that showed through his skin. He traced their outlines. Dragging his fingertips down his arm, turning it to feel the flesh of his wrists. Would slicing here really quicken the process? 

Normalcy. 

Haru wanted to be normal. This seemed normal. Exposing himself as a fragile being, a body attached to this earth by a some whimsical idea. It disgusted him. Haru hated the waiting. He wanted to be done. Cutting was so messy and too much effort, though. 

Instead, he dragged his nails harshly against the bare skin. It made his fingers twitch at the action. Wrapping his fingers around, he suddenly felt dizzy. 

No, Haru thought. Too soon, the sensations were just getting good. 

The dizziness made Haru want to vomit. He felt a strong warmth grip onto the wrist that was just in his grasp. Opening his eyes he was met with Makoto's soft green ones. 

"Haru," His voice was urgent. Why did it look like tears? 

Haru was free. He was finally free. 

The last thing Haru remembered was watching Makoto's lips move in slow motion. It was so distorted. 

There was a loud noise that echoed through the room. And loud voices that tried to whisper. It was uncomfortable. Opening his eyes, Haru was greeted with ugly bright lights. He looked to his arm and followed the IV to the stand. He was attached to the loud noise, that sped up with his breathing. 

"Haruka," He heard a familiar voice. 

This was all too much still. His mother held him steady in the bed. Panicking still, he looked around the room. His dad and Makoto stood off to the side when a nurse rushed in. Barely allowing time for Haruka to reach out to Makoto. The nurse checked over his vitals and calmed him down alongside his mom. 

What happened? 

Walking, there was lots of it. He walked from his house to see Rin. They had talked about... something or other. Haru's mind was still fuzzy. Then he went to see Rei and they walked to Nagisa's house. More walking. More talking. It was all blurry nonsense. He walked along the beach shore, feeling the water against his skin. Then he met with Makoto. Said something that led him to here. 

He screwed up. 

"I'll see you later," Makoto had told him. He wore the dumbest grin. 

Haru shook his head, not knowing what overcame himself. "No," He whispered. 

Haru had screwed up big time in his plan. And now everyone had known of his failed attempt. He should've taken more pills. He should've sliced his wrists. Drowned himself in water. Burned himself. Anything beat the embarrassment of knowing. 

They knew. 

He saw it in his mother's eyes. Her blue eyes worriedly checked him over. She sighed and sat down on the chair closest to the hospital bed. Haru looked up to see his dad walking towards them, pushing Haru's bangs out of his face. He held a silent conversation with his parents. 

"I'm not sorry," His eyes screamed. 

His parents understood. Exhausted, his mother stood and left the room. His father looked back at the hospital bed before following after. 

Leaving Makoto, who still sat in the chair farthest from Haru. Nervously, Haru focused in on the messy state of the taller boy. His hair was sticking up from pulling at one side. And his shirt had some mysterious stain on it. Haru hyper focused onto the discolored stain. 

Makoto chanced a look at Haru. Catching him staring, he turned back to his shoes. He bent down to retie his loose shoe, but Haru grunted at him. 

Looking back up, Makoto was met with a fierce blue gaze. One that glanced down to his shirt. 

"Ah," Makoto gave a nervous smile. "You threw up," He paused and let Haru process what he said, "I made you throw up." 

Haru had no memory of this happening. He nodded. 

Smiling, Makoto stood up and walked closer to Haru. He sat back down in the empty seat that Haru's mom had left moments before. He wrapped his hands around Haru's, which were placed on Haru's stomach. He brought his hands to his lips. Haru could have sworn Makoto kissed his knuckles, but it was just a feeling. 

"Please," Makoto was getting teary eyed, "don't ever do that again." 

Haru stared at Makoto's quivering lip. He felt a twist in his belly knowing that he had caused pain. 

"Please, Haru," Makoto managed through tears, "I was so scared. Don't..." 

Haru pulled him into a hug. Suddenly feeling very aware of the fact that he hadn't showered in days. He rubbed circles against Makoto's shoulders. All in an attempt to calm the boy. 

"I don't want to lose you," Makoto broke down. 

Haru let out a soft sob. The boys cried in each other's arms. 

Pulling apart, Haru sniffled. 

"I love you, Haru," Makoto rubbed away the tears on Haru's cheeks

Haru didn't respond. Embarrassed for crying, he turned to the clock. It was three in the morning. There wasn't any light coming in through the windows. 

Haru was surprised when warm hands grazed against the back of his hand, the one with the IV still attached. The feeling of fingertips that weren't his own sent tingles through his body. They moved from his hand to his wrist, radiating warmth and good feelings. The fingers paused over a small indention. Haru realized too late that one of his nails had dug a little too deep against his wrist. Dried blood had already clotted the mark, but it was there. 

Another proof of his weak attempt. 

Haru lifted his gaze to Makoto's eyes. "I'm sorry," He said and Makoto overflowed with tears. 

They hugged once more, arms wrapped tightly to one another. Haru gripped onto Makoto's shirt, still dirtied with his own vomit. He did not care. Makoto didn't care. There was no embarrassment with Makoto. No shyness, no misleading emotions, no misheard apology. 

Makoto knew he hurt. He knew there would be time needed to heal. There would be relapses. 

"I'm so happy you're still here." Makoto cried into Haru's shoulder. 

Haru clung on tighter. Feeling the fabric of Makoto's shirt. "Yeah," He said.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the read.  
> And please if you or someone you know and care for is dealing with this do not be afraid to reach out. I know it's hard.


End file.
